“Liv, you know I love you like the baby sister I wish I had—” “You have a baby sister.” He has three, actually—triplets—Bibbidy, Bobbidy, and Boo. Marty’s mom was still flying high when she filled out the birth certificates, a little mix-up with the meds during delivery. And Marty’s dad, a rabbi from Queens, was smart enough not to quibble with a woman who’d just had the equivalent of three watermelons pulled out of her.
